


Misery Needs Company

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Coddling, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Tony has had a headache for three days. His family does their best to make him feel better.





	Misery Needs Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [copperbadge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/gifts).



> it sounded like @copperbadge was having One of Those Weekends, so i asked if he’d like some fic and he requested someone with a headache getting coddled
> 
> feel better!

“Tony!” Pepper calls and he flinches.

A headache going on day three is sitting like a pulsating rock in his frontal lobe and the pitch of her voice is enough to send a needle point of pain inward.

Pepper pauses, looks at him for five seconds, and then says, voice lowered, “When did it start?”

“On the way home from NBC?” Tony tries because he honestly isn’t sure.

Pepper stares at him. “That was two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs.

“ _Tony,”_  she says, sounding appalled.

“What?” he replies defensively. “I’ve gotten six hours of sleep the last four nights, I’ve eaten regularly, I’ve only had like four cups of coffee per day, and I haven’t gone over the recommended dose of over-the-counter painkillers even though I know you can go over that and be fine!”

“Tony, that wasn’t criticism,” Pepper says, her expression sympathetic and her hand light on his arm.

“Oh,” Tony says, and deflates. “I’m tired and I’ve been sleeping,” he whines. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not.” She nudges him forward gently and Tony moves as directed, reaching up to dig his knuckles into his forehead. If he presses hard enough, it briefly dulls the pain. “Come on. We’re done for today.”

Tony should protest. There’s still a lot to do. But it feels good to have someone take the reins and he doesn’t have it in him to fight when he wants to do what she says so badly.

He’s surprised when they make it back to the Tower and Steve is there to open the car door for him.

His brain has shut off a little now that he knows he won’t be doing anything else the rest of the day, and he blinks blearily up at Steve. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Steve holds out his hand and Tony takes it without a fuss.

“Pepper call you?”

“Who else?” Pepper replies, coming around the car to join them.

“You still have that same headache?” Steve asks and surprises Tony again.

“Yeah. How did you—”

Steve smiles fondly and presses a thumb to his own cheek, his fingers to his forehead. “Been seeing this a lot.”

_And made note of it,_  Tony thinks, warmth filling his belly. He smiles tiredly at Steve.

“Come on,” Pepper says, shepherding them both into the elevator. “Less chit-chat, more relaxation.”

~ * ~

“Do you prefer bed or mindless television?” she asks when they arrive upstairs and Tony has to take a moment to consider his options. It’s barely after six, but bed  _does_  sound tempting. If he’s unconscious his head doesn’t hurt, or at least he isn’t aware of it. But then again laying on the couch with Steve and Pepper and whoever else happens to wander in sounds pretty good, too.

“Mindless television, but I reserve the right to change my mind.”

Steve huffs. “You always have that right. Now sit, so I can get your shoes.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony replies and flops onto the couch. He regrets it because it makes his head throb like his brain is pulsating in an effort to break through his skull. “Ow.”

“Take it easy, huh?” Steve advises and Tony cracks his eyes open to give him a dry glare.

It’s nice having Steve kneeling at his feet, and it’s even nicer when Steve lifts Tony’s foot onto his thigh and starts undoing the laces of his dress shoes. Once that’s done, he slips the shoe free and Tony lets his head drop back onto the sofa with a sigh of relief at the cool rush of air. He groans when Steve reaches up and rubs the muscle of his calf, dragging his fingers down along the muscles to his ankles. There he turns them in a few circles both directions, presses on Tony’s toes to stretch his calf a little more, and then digs the pad of his thumb into the arch of Tony’s sole.

Tony flinches and groans again, biting down on a throw pillow.

“Okay?” Steve asks, hands stilling. He doesn’t let go entirely though, and his hands are broad and warm around Tony’s leg.

“Oh god, don’t stop,” Tony moans into the pillow.

Steve chuckles, and moves on to the other foot. He repeats the same, and it leaves Tony tingling and relaxed from the hip down. He bites his lip when Steve moves up onto the couch next to him and takes his hand, digging both thumbs into the tender spot between his thumb and index fingers. It  _hurts_ , but it feels good all the same.

“How come I don’t get this kind of treatment every night?”

“Special treatment for special occasions,” Steve says with a small smile.

“This is the worst kind of special occasion imaginable.”

Steve pecks his cheek with a smile.

“I hear you have a headache,” Natasha says and both Tony and Steve turn to see her leaning in the doorway. “Can I offer some help?”

“Bless me,” Tony replies. “It’s been three days, hit me with everything you’ve got.”

Natasha smiles and then falls gracefully into a turn and goes back through the doorway to do…whatever it is she has planned.

Tony’s eyes slip closed at the sensation of Steve gently brushing the hair back off his forehead. “Feels good,” he mumbles and shivers when Steve runs his nails across his scalp.

“What do you want to watch?” Steve asks.

Something comforting. “Star Trek,” Tony decides and Steve’s smile stretches wider. That’s when Tony realizes Steve’s already in the process of queuing it up. “You don’t know me,” he grumbles, but again, he gets the warm, pleased feeling in his belly.

Steve sets aside the remote once “The Trouble with Tribbles” starts and reaches for Tony’s hands again.

“Oh my god,  _more,”_  Tony says, simultaneously delighted and incredulous. “This has been a miserable week so far, but if this is what it gets me, maybe I’d like to do it regularly.”

Steve laughs.

Natasha returns, and she’s carrying a washcloth and what looks like a smashed stuffed snake with blue rope handles on either end. “Bruce is bringing tea and Pepper is acquiring food. Steve lift his head, will you?”

“I can still move,” Tony says mildly, but Steve is already shifting him forward and it’s easier to let him do it. Natasha places the smashed snake, which is actually made of fabric and filled with beans or something and it’s very warm. The heat instantly seeps into his skin, urging the muscles in his neck to unwind. “Oh my god,” he mutters, closing his eyes and leaning back into it.

Something icy cold touches his forehead—the washcloth—and the pain immediately shrinks back from it. It’s such a relief that Tony can’t bring himself to open his eyes for awhile, just reveling in the way the steamy warmth of the heat pack curls around his neck and the way the cold cloth blunts the stabbing in his head. He drifts off, he thinks.

When the temperature of both has become less intense, he opens his eyes to mere slits and finds food on the coffee table in front of him.  Baked potato—mild but filling, and a steaming cup of tea. Pepper is curled up on his other side now, also rubbing the web between his fingers. She smiles at him. “Hungry?”

Tony grunts, unable to work up enough energy for words. He’s comfortable and content and the food’s not going anywhere. He tilts his face toward Pepper, letting out a little gasp of a sigh when someone behind the couch switches out the washcloth on his forehead for a fresh one.

Pepper laughs softly and leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Rest. We’ll be here.” __


End file.
